Memories of a Vampire
by Pyremon Infernos
Summary: We met Kate in Dead Man's Blood, but what's her story? Kate recalls her life back when she was human, and when she first met Luther and became a vampire. Told from her POV, after the events of DMB.


Summary: My take on Kate's history, when she first met Luther and became a vampire.

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights of Supernatural, I'm just a big fan of the show_

xxxx

Some believe fate has a very ironic sense of humor. When it first happened to me, I was definitely one of those people. But then again, I wasn't a person anymore, was I?

It was so long ago, long enough it seems more like a dream then a memory. My life was so different before I met him; Before I met Luther. The last time I was human was at the later part of the 19th century, during the time best known as the Gilded Age. I was 20 years old, my family and I, the youngest of three, lived out on a farm in Colorado, back when it was still mostly unsettled. With the Depressions and the government so focused on reconstruction from the Civil War they completely neglected the damage the new corporations were doing to people not as wealthy as they were, my family was one of the many people hit hard by the changes. Too poor and too remote to afford any doctors, my brother and older sister passed away over the winter, and only I was left.

_Why did life have to be so cruel?_ I always wondered this every waking moment. Why do some people just get things handed to them and get to stand above the law while others are always crushed by it? It was, needless to say, unpleasant news to me when my parents told me they'd have me married off to some rich man a few years older then I was who had bought some of our livestock for his dad's meat company. He seemed to consider me attractive, but had spoke rather crudely about my family. It was that condescending pity anyone who met someone higher in society then themselves was all too familiar with. I hated people like him, and yet he'd paid my parents to sell me off to him, just like a cow or pig. The night I was told of the marriage, I hated my parents more then I ever thought I could. I wished more then anything to be free. To be above the rules and answer to myself, and to be with someone I could love.

I don't know if someone up above heard me, but that very night I heard tapping on my window. When I looked over at the window there was nothing there. I felt so sure I heard something, gathering my robes and blanket, I approached the window and took a closer look, then I sure as hell did see something. It was late and a fog had already settled, but I could see a figure standing outside, by the pens. It was human, or at least looked it.

He was looking directly at me, as if beckoning me. I don't know why I left the house, maybe I hated my life so much now I didn't care about the outcome. As I drew closer, his features became visible. He was tall, with dark hair reaching to just past his ears, and dressed like a drifter. His worn clothes, however, didn't detract from his handsome features. He was young, though maybe a few years older then myself, with dark eyes that seemed to stare right through me. As I looked into them it became more and more clear to me how there was something otherworldly about him, then as I was only five feet from him, I saw the moonlight gleam off his eyes, like an owl or a wolf.

I was scared, but only at first, as he closed the remaining gap between us and spoke to me. He'd been watching me for some time, and proved he knew a great deal about me, and what I wanted.

"You're trapped," He said, "trapped by mortality. You're forced to live under others and do as they say because you don't have what they do. You want to be free of that. And you never will be if you marry to that undeserving socialite."

He reached up and stroked my cheek, ran his hand through my dark hair. My body tensed, feeling a warmth despite the cold air. That feeling you get when you have just met someone, but feel so sure they're the one.

"Ever since I first saw you, I could see how much you wanted to escape. And the more I saw it, the more I wanted to take you with me." He continued, causing me to snap out of my brief daze and stare right up at him. "I'm here to offer you a choice, Kathleen…" He said, surprising me when he addressed me by name. "You're welcome to stay with your life, and accept this as a dream, or you can leave it all behind, and come with me into a new one. A life free of rules, where you can strike back against anyone who wrongs you without consequences, and you'll have an eternity to appreciate what the world offers."

I had made my decision. I looked into his eyes again. They had a look to them that suggested he was much older then he looked. "What's your name?" I finally asked.

"Luther." He replied.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. My had longed for such freedom, and Luther had answered. Before I knew it I had wrapped my arms around him, my head against his chest. "Luther… please, take me."

As I looked up, I could see him smile. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a knife. My eyes widened, a sense of dread coming over me as I feared what he intended to do, but then he raised his other hand, and ran the blade across it, cutting his own hand. I could only watch in fear and fascination as he held his hand to his mouth and seemed to allow the blood to flow in. Finally, dropping the knife, Luther embraced me, holding me tightly and closely as our lips met, the salty taste of blood entered my mouth, and I found myself drinking it, rather then attempting to spit it out, allowing every drop to flow down my throat.

Then something felt wrong. I felt dizzy… tired… as if I were falling into a peaceful slumber I might never wake up from. The last thing I felt was the safety of Luther's arms as he held onto me, keeping me from falling.

When I awoke, I knew right away I wasn't at home in my bed. It was a log cabin, not much different from the one I grew up in. As I sat up, still dazed, something seemed wrong. Every detail in the room stood out, I could see everything so clearly even though it was still night.

"Luther?" I called out; it was the first thing that came to my mind. I prayed for an answer, but what I got in return was silence. The room was small, and I had been laying on an unfamiliar bed. I fought off the dizziness I still felt and climbed off the bed, standing up. I was scared, but something seemed completely wrong. I realized at that moment I couldn't feel my heart beating! It should have been pounding right now. But it wasn't. I also felt hungry. For the briefest instant I felt something shifting and moving over my teeth. Something growing, but then it receded. At that very moment the door opened, and Luther was there. I was terrified.

"What's happening to me?" I asked immediately. Luther had a look of genuine concern, but also understanding, as if he had experienced what I was feeling now himself.

"Don't be scared." He told me, his hand on my cheek. "Give yourself time to adjust. The transition's hard at first." I couldn't shake off my discomfort. What was that feeling I'd had earlier? "Come. There's something you must do before my family will accept you." Gently taking my hand, Luther led me outside of the room, into the den of the cabin. There were two children playing on the floor, maybe both about seven years old. Luther smiled at them both, and I saw light gleam from their eyes as they looked up at me as if I were being judged. Then the front door opened, and Luther's smile widened. "Just in time!" He observed.

An older man, perhaps in his late forties, and a young man perhaps a few years older then Luther entered, behind them a woman about my age. They were carrying something tied in blankets, something that was moving. The older man scowled at Luther briefly. "What's so special about this one?" he demanded.

"Father, this one's perfect. He deserves it." Luther responded confidently as he took that familiar knife out again and cut the ropes, and he and the man he'd established his father, and the other two gave the blanket a good yank. My eyes widened when I saw what tumbled onto the floor.

It was my fiancée. He was beaten and bloody, and staring at his captors in shock and fear. He made several incomprehensive threats about what his father would do to them for kidnapping, till the kids I saw earlier came over, one of them suddenly running a knife over the man's chest and eliciting a scream from him. The child was promptly and firmly grabbed up by Luther.

"No, Simon. This one is for her!" He said, looking over at me. "Look at him, and trust your instincts." I did as he said, and looked down at the pitiful snob I'd been engaged to in such a short time, and he looked back at me in confusion.

"Kathleen?" He asked. I could only glare at him. I resented him as much as I resented my parents, and I felt this new instinct welling up in me. It started as my eyes traced down towards the blood he was covered in, then the wounds he'd sustained where the blood was still freshly running from. Suddenly I was kneeling down, closer, it was as if the red liquid was calling to me; beckoning me. I felt my mouth opening as I drew closer, and my eyes traced over to his neck. I could hear the pumping of blood just beneath the surface. My fiancée began to whimper, attempting to get away as he could sense there was something different about me.

Suddenly I could feel it, the same odd feelings in my mouth I had experienced earlier. As if something was shifting, and I felt something growing over my teeth. At that moment my fiancée screamed. It seemed so far off, so insignificant, as the instinct guided me and I grabbed him firmly and clamped my teeth down on his soft neck, tearing into it and freeing what I sought beneath.

And then I felt pleasure and an astounding sense of energy flowing through me like nothing I'd ever experienced before as I continued to feed off the blood of my dying fiancée. I couldn't stop, I didn't want to stop! This feeling, the sensations I felt all over me were intoxicating! Finally, I could drink no more, and I let go, a few breaths I could no longer feel escaped me. I barely noticed my fiancée's body hit the floor beside me, or the others, save Luther, who immediately descended on him to finish him off.

I let my hand wander up to my lips to wipe the blood off, it had been dripping all over, and I felt the new row of sharp fangs that had covered my own teeth. I was surprised, but not scared, I don't know why. Somehow, it all felt right. Everything felt right for the first time in my life. I had destroyed what had attempted to control me, and now I truly felt free. New cravings began to arise, cravings for adventure, and living above society rather then under it. I could feel the row of fangs retracting, disappearing into my jaws somewhere I could no longer feel them as I looked up at Luther, who smiled proudly at me.

"Welcome home."

xxxx

Now I stand out here, at the old place at the end of this lonely road in Manning that we used to call home; the girl I had turned the other day standing behind me some ten feet or so by the car we'd escaped in. It was daytime, but I didn't care. The discomfort the sun gave me was nothing compared to the pain I felt inside from the events of last night. Luther was gone, destroyed by that gun I'd stolen from that bastard Elkins. It had taken me awhile to find where those three had hidden his body, but I'd recognize his scent anywhere even if he were a mile away. They'd dumped him and the rest of the gang in our place and left their corpses there to rot.

We were nearly extinct now; why couldn't humans just forget about us? Elkins deserved to die because he wouldn't; I saw what he did to Luther's family, and it had changed him overnight. But Luther was right, I shouldn't have let my feelings get in the way. He knew killing Elkins would only attract more people like him and I didn't believe it. Thanks to me, the one who had set me free, the one who had loved me for over a century, was truly gone.

"Kate?" I could hear the girl's voice from behind me. No doubt the sun was getting to her. I sighed; there was nothing left for me here. Not anymore.

"I'm coming."


End file.
